


Castle Season 7 The Lost Episode: A Trap Set for Two

by BlueAvenue



Category: Castle (TV 2009)
Genre: Abduction, F/M, Gags, Non-Consensual Bondage, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rope Bondage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-15
Updated: 2020-04-29
Packaged: 2020-10-18 15:31:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20641484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueAvenue/pseuds/BlueAvenue
Summary: Kate Beckett and Alexis Castle's ill-advised undercover assignment ends in their becoming captives of a charismatic and depraved cult leader.





	1. In Which Kate and Alexis Learn the Ropes (and Gags)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kate Beckett and Alexis Castle's ill-advised undercover assignment ends in their becoming captives of a charismatic and depraved cult leader.

Celebrated crime novelist Richard Castle embarks on an overseas tour to promote the newest title in his bestselling Nikki Heat series. He leaves his detective agency in the capable hands of his 21-year-old daughter Alexis. Even as Castle jets toward Australia on the first leg of his tour, Alexis is seated behind his desk speaking with a new client. Financier Owen Heathfield has concerns his son and heir Damon has fallen under the influence of a mysterious organization calling itself SFAD. "They claim to be all about self-empowerment," says Heathfield, "but based on what little I've learned it's set up more like a cult. Here's my overriding concern, Ms. Castle. My son has already tapped into his trust fund at the request of the group's founder, a shady character named Evan Raintree. He's given away thousands of dollars to this con man,_ thousands!_ I'm not in the best of health, in fact--please keep this between us--I have to undergo chemo starting Tuesday of next week."

"Sir, I'm truly sorry to hear that," says Alexis.

"My dear, I'm seventy-one and accept that my time has come. However, the prospect of Damon signing his inheritance over to these people is deeply troubling to me. All my instincts tell me they're up to no good. I've come to you in hopes you and your father can expose these scam artists so the appropriate authorities can get involved and shut them down for good." 

"Mr. Heathfield, I really ought to make you aware my dad won't be back from his book tour until later this month," Alexis cautions.

"Is there nothing you can do in the meantime? Look here, this Raintree's holding an open house for prospective members at his place in the Hamptons this weekend. He's quite selective as to who he invites to join, but I'm told it helps to be an attractive young woman." 

Alexis laughs uncertainly. "Are you suggesting I go undercover?"

"I'm prepared to make it worth your while," says Heathfield, sliding a checkbook from inside his suit jacket. "Say, a five thousand dollar retainer?"

"I'll have to take this under advisement," Alexis hedges. "Under advisement" means discussing it over Chinese takeout with Detective Kate Beckett of the NYPD's 12th Precinct, her father's live-in girlfriend and the inspiration for Nikki Heat. With Martha spending the week at the Cape Code home of Broadway producer Jed Mosburg and his wife, Alexis and Kate have the loft to themselves. Kate lights up at the first mention of Evan Raintree.

"I have a professional interest in him," she informs Alexis. "A young woman defected from this sleazy SFAD outfit recently and was beaten into a coma. We've attempted to interview Raintree but his lawyers won't make him available. Nor can we obtain a search warrant for his home. I can't get the Department to commit the resources needed for a thorough investigation." A smile flickers on her lips. "But if the two of us were to visit his house this weekend on the pretext of wanting to join..."

"I'm in," Alexis says. "Next question: do we tell Dad?"

"We're going to leave him out of the loop for the same reason I'm leaving Captain Gates at the precinct out of the loop."

Alexis grins. "Easier to ask forgiveness after the fact than get permission in advance?"

"Precisely. Now let's decide on cover names."

Late Saturday morning Kate and Alexis collect Castle's leased Mercedes sedan from his private garage and set out for the Hamptons. Both are alluringly costumed in clingy backless sundresses and strappy sandals, not so much a concession to the August heat and humidity as a shameless ploy to gain the attention of their host. They arrive at Raintree's hacienda overlooking Long Island Sound shortly before 2:30 PM. After entrusting the Benz to a parking valet, they give the armed security guards at the gate their assumed names of Antonia (Alexis) and Cassidy (Kate). To their dismay the guards confiscate their cellphones before admitting them. "Orders from Mr. Raintree," explains the younger guard, garbed like his partner in navy blue polo shirt, cargo pants and ballistic nylon duty belt. Both carry holstered sidearms. From a distance they could easily be mistaken for cops. "He doesn't allow recording devices of any sort on the grounds." 

Kate and Alexis enter the compound with some trepidation, keenly aware they are being tracked by a video camera on the gatehouse roof. The surveillance, cellphone ban and private police force answering to Raintree is consistent with Mr. Heathfield's description of SFAD as a cult. They are equally disconcerted to discover the open house is more in the nature of a pool party. This poses a problem in that neither thought to bring swimwear. At which point they are approached by an arrestingly beautiful blonde woman attired in a crisp white blouse open two buttons deeper than necessary for comfort, black skirt slit daringly to the hip, and three-inch heels. She introduces herself as Raintree's executive assistant, Vanessa Traynor. "Not to worry, I'm sure we have something that fits you," she assures them, and within minutes a bikini-clad Alexis Castle and Kate Beckett emerge from a dressing room ready to mingle with the other invitees. 

It appears their gambit has paid off when Vanessa intercepts them even before they reach poolside. "You've already caught the eye of Mr. Raintree," she says. "He wishes to interview you personally. Consider yourselves fortunate, you're almost guaranteed immediate induction." 

"Shouldn't we change first?" ventures Kate. The sea green string bikini she's laced into is far more revealing than she'd counted on. Alexis too is showing plenty of skin. 

"One of the first lessons you'll learn as a disciple of SFAD is to lose your inhibitions," Vanessa responds. "Now please come with me." Her use of the word "disciple" further unsettles Kate and Alexis, but this opportunity to learn more about Raintree and his secretive group may never present itself again. They follow Vanessa away from the pool area and down a stairwell to the rear of the house. 

"His office is in the basement?" Alexis wonders aloud.

"A converted fallout shelter," explains Vanessa. "The original homeowner--keep in mind he built the house in the early Sixties--was determined to ride out a nuclear war if it ever came." The stairs end at a windowless steel door suitable for a bank vault. Vanessa enters a five-digit passcode on a wall-mounted keypad. The door opens with a pneumatic hiss.

This is a bridge too far for Kate Beckett, no longer able to ignore the muted though persistent alarms in her back brain. "I'm frankly uncomfortable with this," she says. "If Mr. Raintree wants to see us that badly, I'd rather we do it upstairs."

"That won't be possible," Vanessa counters. "This is where he works."

"Do you know who else works out of their basements?" asks Alexis. "Serial killers, that's who. No way in hell I'm going through that door."

Vanessa's sensual mouth forms a sinister smile. "Sadly for you, Ms. Castle, you and Detective Beckett no longer have a choice." Alexis and Kate's hearts misfire in unison as they realize far too late their cover is blown. Before either can react, the armed guards from the front gate appear on the stairs behind them, this time with SIG Sauer pistols drawn. They train their weapons in deadly earnest on the severely underdressed duo. 

"I'd advise you to rethink this," Kate warns in the most authoritative tone she can manage given that she's outnumbered two guns to none and nearly naked. She raises her hands anyway; Alexis resignedly follows suit. They are swiftly herded through the doorway at gunpoint. No sooner have they cleared the threshold than the door shuts automatically and seals itself behind them. Hearing the bolts slam home, Kate and Alexis trade distraught glances in heartsick certainty they no longer have an avenue of escape or hope of rescue.

"Rolf and Gunnar, your timing is exquisite," Vanessa purrs. "You came prepared, I see."

"Of course," says one of the gunmen. He frees a neatly coiled bundle of braided jute rope from a carabiner on his belt and tosses it to her.

"Very good. A police detective and private investigator flying under false colors, as it were. How long would you have carried on this charade had we not unmasked you? No matter. You're about to enjoy the rare privilege of a private audience with our esteemed founder Evan Raintree." Vanessa holds up the coiled rope. "As soon as I'm done tying you up, that is. Would it interest you at all to learn I have a side gig as a bondage rigger?" 

Shortly afterward, Kate and Alexis lie facing each other on the raw concrete floor of the repurposed fallout shelter's pantry, bound hand and foot and lashed together at the waist courtesy of Vanessa. It is their cruel misfortune to be in a hands of a woman with a West Texas trailhand's roping and tying skills and a seaman's mastery of knots. The ropes are cinched tight, the self-locking knots escape proof. Evan Raintree, a craggy-featured man dressed casually yet tastefully in Abercrombie & Fitch finery, stands gloating over the hapless pair.

"All trussed up and nowhere to go," he muses. "You bitches disappoint me. I wouldn't have expected the daughter and girlfriend of Richard Castle to be so maladroit at undercover work."

"Celebrity is such a double-edged sword," coos Vanessa Traynor. "Your faces are splashed all over Page Six of the tabloids every time Castle's publisher throws a book launch party. Did it not cross your minds one or both of you would be recognized?"

Kate wrenches vigorously but in vain at her bonds. "Castle knows we're here, so does the NYPD. It's even money as to who comes looking for us first." A desperate bluff, best she can do given that she and Alexis are tied up in their bikinis and entirely at the mercy of this conniving asshole and his sadistic blonde girlfriend.

"Nice try," sneers Raintree. "Castle would never condone such a ludicrous attempt to infiltrate my organization, nor would NYPD authorize it. I can reasonably assume you're operating without the knowledge of either. No one's arriving in the nick of time to save your sweet asses, meaning I can do with you as I please."

"You evil sack of shit," seethes Kate, her last utterance before Vanessa kneels alongside and deftly straps a ball gag between her teeth. In short order Alexis too is gagged.

SFAD is a front for a global human trafficking operation," continues Raintree. "That's right, we're in the nasty business of selling delectable pieces of ass like you to our clientele abroad on the Dark Net. You'll be flattered to learn we've had inquiries from certain of our regular customers eager to acquire you for their very own. The cachet of owning the real-life Nikki Heat and the daughter of the man who created her is irresistible to them. You're familiar with the concept of serendipity, are you not? I never dreamed you would be so obliging as to ensnare yourselves in my web, but now that you have I intend to take full advantage of this unexpected stroke of luck. Even now arrangements are being are being made to auction you off, preferably as a matched set. I daresay you'll command a price well into seven figures, so that's where we'll start the bidding. Since Vanessa and I invested next to nothing in your capture, we stand to make an exorbitant profit off you."

"NNNNGH!" Kate and Alexis mewl through their gags.

"The sooner you adjust yourselves to the reality your lives as you knew them are over, that you've drawn your last breath as free women, the better. Rolf and Gunnar will be back to prep you for transport once the party winds down. We'll see each other again before you're shipped overseas, but for now my girlfriend and I have guests to entertain."

Raintree and Vanessa withdraw from the pantry, closing and bolting the door behind them, leaving Kate Beckett and Alexis Castle to writhe hopelessly in their bondage as they contemplate a fate that in this case is indisputably worse than death.

_ To Be Continued_


	2. In Which Kate and Alexis are Taken for a Ride

Physically and emotionally spent after fruitless hours struggling to free themselves from their bonds, Kate Beckett and Alexis Castle offer no more than token resistance as they are readied for transport by Raintree's compound guards Rolf and Gunnar. The men have received _Shibari _tutorials from Vanessa Traynor, as evidenced by the fact Kate and Alexis are now roped into box ties so elaborate they resemble macramé projects. Crotch ropes threaded deep between their pussy lips and ass cheeks ramp up their misery quotient tenfold. 

Rolf and Gunnar take full and ruthless advantage of their abject helplessness by indulging in gleefully gratuitous breast-mauling and ass-grabbing. Alexis and Kate's pleas and protests are muted by the vented silicon ball gags strapped in their mouths. Drool seeps and dribbles from the gags, making complete their humiliation.

_Fuck, whatever made me think this was a good idea? _Kate asks herself as Gunnar cups hamlike hands over her breasts. She strains vigorously though in vain against the ropes. Like Alexis her arms and wrists are bound behind her in such a way as to make getting loose a non-starter, yet with no risk of impeding blood circulation or nerve damage. "We can safely keep you tied up like this all day," Gunnar said as he fashioned the key knot between Kate's shoulders blades, well beyond reach of her fingers, "and we intend to."

Meanwhile Alexis is the recipient of unwanted attention from Rolf. Snaking a sinewy arm around her waist from behind, he works the fingers of his free hand beneath her crotch rope to gently strum her pussy lips through the near-weightless fabric of her bikini. Alexis writhes in sweet torment. No man, certainly not her ex-boyfriend Pi, has ever touched her like this, no man ever taken such boldly indecent liberties with her body.

"You like that, hah?" Rolf whispers in her ear. "Later on you can repay me. Are you any good at giving head? If not, think of it as an opportunity to polish your blowjob technique. Your new owner, lucky fellow, will expect you to pleasure him with your mouth on the daily."

"GNNNNGH!" Alexis moans fearfully.

Enter Vanessa Traynor, costumed in a black PVC catsuit that adheres to her every sinuous curve like a coat of lacquer. Kate and Alexis shudder at the sight of the bullwhip coiled in her right hand. "It's well after dark and the last of our guests are finally on their way home," she proclaims. "Time to head 'em up and move 'em out, just like Rowdy Yates on_ Rawhide._"

Gunnar and Rolf leave their handguns holstered, brandishing tasers as they march the captives down the corridor toward the portal. Rolf sprints ahead, through the door and up the stairs to the terrace, where he stands ready with two short lengths of rope. Wary of a desperate break for freedom by Kate and/or Alexis he hobbles their ankles. The demoralized pair shuffle barefoot across the moonlit terrace, steered toward the open side door of the garage by Vanessa's bullwhip cleaving the air above their heads. Parked inside the garage is a silver GMC utility van. Kate and Alexis are manhandled inside the windowless payload bay, which entails more ass-grabbing, and ordered to sit on the floor with their bare backs against the steel partition separating the bay and cab. Gunnar frees Kate from the hobble only to replace it with a six-foot length of rope cinched tautly around her ankles. He uses additional ropes to lash her long, sleek legs together above and below the knees. Rolf gladly attends to the task of tying up Alexis in like manner.

Gunnar surveys their handiwork. "All packaged for shipment," he says with a gloating grin. He steps to one side as Vanessa leans in through the open side door.

"Perhaps you gentleman can make yourselves useful elsewhere," she says pointedly.

"Yes, ma'am." The enforcers waste no time exiting the payload bay. 

"All nice and comfy, ladies?" Vanessa inquires with mock solicitude. She plainly relishes the sight of Richard Castle's celebrity cop girlfriend, to say nothing of his daughter, bound hand and foot in designer swimwear.

"MMMMNNGH!" respond Kate and Alexis.

"Detective Beckett, Evan phoned your precinct just now posing as a witness trying to get in contact with you. He learned from your desk sergeant that you won't be back on duty until eight Monday morning. That affords us a twenty-four to thirty-six hour window before NYPD or anyone else realizes you and Alexis are MIA." 

"GNNNNGH!" grunts Kate through her gag. She shakes her head violently, tawny mane swirling around her shoulders.

"Did you have something to contribute, Kate? Too bad you have that nasty gag in your mouth. I'll remove it for the time being so we can converse. Not like there's anyone in shouting distance to help you."

After being gagged nearly five hours Kate Beckett is ready to speak her mind. "You and Raintree can't possibly believe you'll walk away from this," she says thickly. "Damon Heathfield's father retained Alexis to investigate your goddamn sex cult. He'll go straight to NYPD once our disappearance hits the news. Where do you think they'll start looking for us?"

"The first thing they'll do is ping your cellphones to get a GPS fix, which is why Damon is even now driving upstate with them. He'll leave one phone in Binghamton, the other outside Utica, creating not one but two false trails for the police to stumble down in their unsuccessful search for you. Your boyfriend's Benz is in the process of being cut up for parts at a chop shop in rural Suffolk County, admittedly a waste of a perfectly fine automobile, and we're burning your clothes and handbags in an incinerator off-site. Bottom line, when the authorities show up here Evan will be happy to let them search without a warrant. There will be no evidence you were ever here. Nor will any of our guests recall seeing you. Why do you think I headed you off before you reached the pool?"

"You may think you've covered all the angles," Kate says grimly. "But NYPD will never stop searching and neither will Rick." 

"Yes, you go right on thinking that if it makes you feel better. _All the king's horses and all the king's men couldn't save Kate Beckett's ass again. _You bitches are soooo fucked, and once your purchaser takes delivery on you, that won't be a mere figure of speech either."

"You treacherous cunt, I hope you burn in fucking Hell," hisses Kate, all the incentive Vanessa needs to again tamp the ball gag between her teeth and strap it in place. Hearing the engine start, Kate and Alexis thrash desperately in their bondage but the cunningly tied knots hold fast. They can no longer deny the implacable reality that escape is wishful thinking and no one is riding to their rescue_,_ not this time.

"Tomorrow morning you'll leave American soil for good aboard an executive jet with no tail number and a falsified flight plan," Vanessa informs them. "Until then, Rolf and Gunnar have permission from Mr. Raintree to use you as their personal fuck toys--a little reward for a job well done. _Adios, _bitches," Vanessa says with a smirk. She shuts the cargo door. Rolf activates the power door locks from the driver seat, sealing the bound and gagged women in the payload bay and thereby sealing their fate. With Gunnar in the shotgun seat, he steers the van down the driveway toward the open road, at the end of which awaits a living nightmare for Alexis Castle and Detective Kate Beckett.

_To be continued_


	3. In Which Kate and Alexis Swallow Their Pride--and So Much More

Kneeling naked on the soiled carpet of a motel room that from all appearances hasn't seen a paying customer since the Clinton presidency, Detective Kate Beckett strains uselessly at the taut ropes lashing her wrists and ankles together behind her. With a ring gag strapped in her mouth Kate is powerless to prevent her imminent oral rape by career felon Curtiss Dellums, hired muscle recruited by Rolf and Gunnar in return for a share of the spoils, the spoils of course being Kate Beckett and Alexis Castle. Tatum, once a trusted lieutenant of deceased drug lord Vulcan Simmons, has been reduced to slinging dope on Brooklyn street corners and welcomes this unexpected opportunity to punish and humiliate the white policewoman he and the black community at large hold responsible.

Hearing a piteous whimper behind her, Kate chances a look over her right shoulder only to have Tatum wrap a fist in her hair and grind her face into his crotch. "Bitch, best be focused where you ought to be," he growls. Kate is therefore spared the sight of an equally naked Alexis tied up and ball-gagged on the sagging bed while Rolf, now stripped to his cotton briefs, spoons belly to back with her. He gropes the struggling helpless girl with impunity.

"Nice rack," comments Rolf as he paws her ripe breasts. Delving one hand inside her crotch rope he deftly parts her labia with his fingertips. Indifferent to Alexis' plaintive cries he starts probing her warm slick folds. "And what a nice tight pussy you have," Rolf croons. "Let's get you all lubed up for me before we fuck." 

Dellums meanwhile has unbuttoned his trousers and peeled down his shorts to expose five inches or more of fully erect black cock, precum beading at its very tip. Holding Kate's head immobile he uses his free hand to steer the engorged head of his tool through the ring gag. She feels the weight of his shaft on her tongue, feels him penetrate to the back of her throat, causing her to gag violently. Dellums begins stroking in and out like a well-oiled piston, triggering Kate's gag reflex anew with every thrust of his loins. This is not a blowjob, which implies some level of willingness and skill on the woman's part; Kate Beckett is being fucked in the mouth. 

Inspired by his example, Rolf hastily unties the ropes cinched tightly around Alexis ankles, then loosens and removes the crotch rope. Her relief is short-lived, for Rolf sheds his briefs and settles between her thighs, using his body weight to pin her flat on her back. By now he has a raging hard-on for her. Alexis is unable to fend him off with wrists and arms bound firmly behind her back. After grazing her pussy lips with the velvety head of head of his cock, Rolf enters her in one decisive thrust. She moans fearfully through her gag, inner muscles clenching around his throbbing length as she is relentlessly fucked against her will.

From that point on it becomes a contest of sorts, not to see who comes in first but who comes last. Dellums continues fucking Kate Beckett in the mouth well after Rolf has spent himself deep inside Alexis Castle. His stamina is inhuman. He finally fills Kate's mouth with the brackish taste of cum, forcing her to gag down his hot liquid load lest she choke. Gunnar chooses that moment to enter the motel room with carryout boxes of Domino's pizza and a twelve pack of Coors.

"You motherfuckers," he complains without rancor. "You started without me."

"Hey, I got this one broken in for you already," laughs Rolf, heaving himself off Alexis. "You can thank me later."

Dellums backs away from Kate, who kneels before him weeping in shame and impotent rage. "Y'all can mouth-fuck this white poe-lease bitch too. Your choice."

Gunnar flashes a predatory smile. "Any reason I can't fuck 'em both?"

"Hey, go for it," says Rolf, helping himself to a steaming wedge of pizza. "We got all night and all the privacy we need. If all goes according to schedule, Beckett and the girl will be United Arab Emirates by this time tomorrow. Ladies, did we mention your new owner, Shiek Faoud, has a taste for bondage and blowjobs? Consider tonight a preview of coming attractions."  


Kate and Alexis, bound and gagged and totally at the non-existent mercy of their captors in this derelict motel, shiver in dread as they contemplate a bleak future of sexual servitude thousands of miles from home. They are trapped in a nightmare there is no waking up from. 


End file.
